


The First Fall of Snow

by ThatRavenclawBitch



Series: 25 Days of Ficlets [5]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: 25 Days of Ficlets, F/M, Fluff in the Dark Castle (Once Upon a Time), The Dark Castle (Once Upon a Time)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 05:28:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16866988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatRavenclawBitch/pseuds/ThatRavenclawBitch
Summary: From my 25 Days of Ficlets prompts on tumblr. Dark Castle Rumbelle - "It's snowing!"





	The First Fall of Snow

It had been three weeks since Belle had arrived at the Dark Castle and she was still getting her bearings.

She wasn’t entirely sure what to make of her new master. He was, by turns, gleeful and taciturn. She was never entirely sure what Rumplestiltskin she would find on a given day, flitting around the castle in fits of manic energy, all showy hand motions and feats of magic. Or else quiet, sitting at his spinning wheel for hours on end without so much as a word.

The first few days of her stay Rumple had tried to frighten her. He’d thrown her in the dungeon, growled and snarked, taken her with him to find the escaped thief with the promise of murdering him in front of her. After the first couple of days though he’d mellowed. It was as if he’d been wearing a mask, putting on a show for her benefit, and he’d grown tired of having to do it twenty-four hours a day. Belle wondered how much of his reputation for darkness was just theater. The man who refused to murder a man trying to save the mother of his child, who gave her a library filled to bursting with books, who sat at his spinning wheel so calmly turning straw into shimmering strands of gold as if it were nothing, that was the real Rumplestiltskin. She’d stake her life on it.

It was also clear he had no idea what to do with her once he realized he wasn’t going to frighten her into running away. Belle rather thought Rumple enjoyed the solitude of his castle, or had at least grown used to it. He wasn’t used to having a witness to his domestic life and it made him nervous. She wondered why he had claimed her as his price in the first place. It certainly hadn’t been well thought out on his end. Maybe he did it just to see if her father would agree.

In addition to the puzzle of her new master, one she was bound and determined to solve, the Dark Castle was an enigmatic new friend. She had the run of the place, nothing off limits as far as she could tell. Rumple had told her not to go to his tower laboratory without him lest she turn herself into a newt, and so far she hadn’t had the urge.

She wasn’t entirely certain where the castle was – Rumple had used magic to transport them here from her father’s estate – but it was certainly far from home. The air was thinner here, cold and crisp. Her father’s castle was located near a marsh where the air was thick, warm and steamy in the summers and cool in the winters with the breeze coming in from the bay. Despite a weekend trip to Arendelle, Belle hadn’t traveled much and she wished she knew more about her new home.

It had only been three weeks since she arrived at the castle, no later than mid autumn. The Marchlands had been warm when she left, still clinging to the heat of summer, the trees that hadn’t been uprooted by ogres or burned by warfare still bearing their greenest leaves. It was a surprise then when she woke up on the reclining couch in her library that morning after falling asleep with a book on her chest for the third time that week, to find the windows completely frosted over.

She leapt up from her couch, rushing to the window and rubbing a hand against the cold glass to better see. It was no trick, no humid air fogging the windows. With glee, Belle rushed down the grand staircase to the foyer, grabbing hold of the large brass handle on the front door and giving it a forceful tug. The solid oak door didn’t so much as budge.

Belle rolled her eyes. Of course Rumple had the place sealed up tight.

She turned, rushing in to the great hall instead. Rumple was already there, seated at the lone chair at his dining table and sipping at a cup of coffee, the bitter drink he preferred in the mornings.

“It’s snowing!” she squealed in delight, rushing to the large windows and pushing back one of the heavy curtains to see more clearly. The courtyard outside was completely covered in snow, the artfully trimmed hedges surrounding the castle blanketed in white, rendered lumpy masses rather than the centaurs and griffons they'd been formed in to. Belle had never seen so much snow in all her life.

“So,” Rumplestiltskin grumbled.

“So?” Belle asked, spinning to face him. “It hardly ever snows in the Marchlands. I remember it happening twice in my whole life and never this much.”

“We’re in the mountains,” Rumplestiltskin groused. “You’ll grow sick of it come spring.”

Belle rolled her eyes. “Be that as it may, it’s snowing now and I want to go out and enjoy it.”

“Why?” Rumple asked, looking up at her confusedly. “It’s cold, wet, and best enjoyed indoors with something hot to drink.” He raised his coffee cup to punctuate his point.

“Because I’ve never really experienced it before,” Belle said. “If I’m to be cloistered in this castle for the rest of my life, my opportunities for new experiences are rather limited.”

Rumple placed his cup down on the table, leaning back in his chair and surveying her with a critical eye.

“No,” he said simply. “A little slip of a girl like you? You’ll catch your death out there.”

Belle turned raising a sly eyebrow. “And you care about that why exactly?”

Rumple blinked, his eyebrows drawing together. “Uh, because I can’t have a sick maid,” he said, his words spilling out in a fumble. “Can’t have you shirking your duties because you’re on deaths door. The castle won’t clean itself.”

Yes it would. Belle had noticed a distinct lack of dust, the floors pristine and the wooden furniture gleaming, when she’d arrived despite the lack of servants in the castle. Even now her main duty as maid was to serve Rumple his tea in the afternoons and keep him company in the evenings as he sat at his wheel. He didn’t want a caretaker for his estate so much as another human in the cavernous castle to make it just a little bit less empty. It struck Belle then the very reason Rumple had claimed her as his price.

He was lonely.

And he didn’t want his one source of human contact getting sick.

“If I had warm enough clothes I wouldn’t be sick,” she said, stepping closer to Rumple. “The cloak you gave me is warm, but this dress isn’t exactly made for snow.”

“No,” he agreed, his eyes tracing over the blue linen work dress he’d provided for her after their adventure to catch Robin Hood. His gaze was perfunctory, but Belle still felt her cheeks warm.

“Maybe if I had a hat or some mittens,” she suggested.

“Fine,” Rumple conceded, standing up from his spot at the head of the table. “If you’re going out in the snow, we’ll do it properly.”

He waved a hand and Belle felt a tingle of magic over her whole body. The next moment she was clad in a long sleeved dress made of thick green velvet. There was a matching capelet edged in ermine and gloves of soft, supple dark leather. She picked up the edge of her dress to see that her silver shoes had been replaced by sturdy boots the same leather as her gloves. The entire outfit was nicer than anything she’d ever worn before, something fit for a queen rather than a maid.

“This is beautiful,” she said wonderingly, running her hands over the soft fur on her cape.

“Yes,” Rumple returned, his voice low, little more than a whisper. He blinked, giving his head a little shake. “Well, I have all the magic in the world at my fingertips. Why should I dress you in rags?”

With a snap of his fingers, a fur lined hat appeared in his hands and he walked forward, settling on Belle’s head, pulling it down over her ears. His hand skimmed over her hair, plaited in a thick braid over her shoulder today, his fingers caressing the chestnut strands for a moment before he stepped back. Belle realized she’d been holding her breath and she let it out in a rush, a shiver going down her spine despite her new warm clothes.

“Right,” Rumple said, giving her another once over before nodding to himself. “All set.”

He motioned to the doors of the hall and they swung open. “Go build a snowman or whatever it is people do with the stuff.”

Belle couldn’t contain her smile, practically running out the doors. This time when she pulled the heavy front door, it swung open easily, a blast of cold air pinking her cheeks as snow flurries dusted across the marble floor.

“Well hurry up,” Rumple barked from behind her and she jumped. She hadn’t realized he’d followed her. “Don’t get snow all over my clean floors. You’ll just have to mop them later.”

Belle raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you coming?”

And despite thinking snow was a nuisance best enjoyed indoors, Rumple followed her out into the snow covered yard. 


End file.
